Power Lust
by Lemna Minor
Summary: Nagi is no longer a child. In an assassin's world of kill or be killed, power is everything. And boy, does Nagi have power: knock-down-buildings power. Why shouldn't he take what he wants?


His alarm squawked at 5 am. His body surged with anger but he quickly suppressed it. He had broken too many alarm clocks with his gift. Instead, he sat up and inhaled deeply. His wretched alarm clock was held tensely an inch above his nightstand, his gift still itching to destroy it. As he exhaled, the clock settled down, and he stretched out a gentle hand to silence it.

He padded over to his computer, not even bothering to flick on the lights. It hummed as it woke, bathing him in sickly blue light. He opened the report he had started last night with disinterest. It was due today, but he didn't feel motivated to finish it. He couldn't help but feel annoyed at how insubstantial his classes could be sometimes. He had so much to do outside of school; things that were important.

He brought his calendar up and checked the highlighted day. Despite his busyness his calendar was often empty; Crawford kept him on task, and it was just an extra thing to take care of. But today, today there were tiny little words in the tiny little box. Happy Birthday, it said, and he smirked at his childishness. But he had only been a child when he joined Schwarz, even if he never had much in terms of a childhood. He didn't actually have a real birthday, at least not one that he knew. Though he never admitted it, he wanted one, secretly. And when Crawford was filing the paperwork for false identification, Nagi offered the date as his birthday.

It might as well have been; it was when his life really began. It was when he met Crawford.

Crawford. Nagi stood and stretched. Today, he had a plan. He checked his reflection in the mirror. He was wearing sleep pants and a simple t-shirt. His hair was slightly ruffled. Nagi pulled off his shirt and tousled his hair carefully. Once satisfied, he opened the door to his bedroom quietly, gift lubricating the hinges so it wouldn't squeak.

He peaked into the kitchen before he entered. Crawford was busying himself at the coffee pot. He hesitated, but walked in smoothly. Despite his quiet footsteps, Crawford looked up at him and nodded in greeting. Nagi paused, wondering briefly if Crawford knew he didn't actually sleep half naked, and nodded back.

"Good morning, Crawford-san."

"Mr. Naoe," Crawford returned, holding out a mug. Nagi took it silently with his gift, and it settled it before him on the table as he sat.

Crawford was already dressed for the day, the same neatly pressed Armani he always wore. Nagi had never seen him in pajamas before. In fact, he had never seen the man sleep. He tried to keep his teenage mind away from guessing what the man might wear to bed. Sleep pants wouldn't do much for hiding the resulting bulge.

Crawford sat down across from him at the table, unusually unburdened with paper work. He looked at Nagi expectantly. "How is your school work?"

"Fine," Nagi said, "but for English class I am supposed to hold an interview in English, at least five questions. I was wondering, sir, if you would help me." He was a manipulative little bitch, he knew, but Crawford had always been very indulgent for his school work. Besides—Crawford's empty hands meant that he foresaw it.

Crawford sipped his coffee and sighed. "You can't ask one of your school friends?"

Nagi flushed at that. "I don't have patience to spend time with dead minds." That was true; he kind of wanted to have sex with some of them, but befriend them? Urgh. He'd rather fail the assignment than talk with one of his classmates.

Crawford smirked, amused by his answer. "Ask away, then."

"Yes, sir. Let me get my recorder." It was just a second, a little maneuvering with his gift, and his recorder was in the palm of his hand. He pressed Record.

"What is your name and age?" he asked first.

"Brad Crawford, age 27."

"What is your occupation?"

"I'm a real estate broker," Crawford said easily.

It took a minute to finish the rest of the questions, stupid questions and stupid lies. But at least he had Crawford's smooth voice recorded for him.

Crawford downed the rest of his coffee. Usually they had a good ten minutes together. Nagi swallowed; it was now or never. "One more question, Crawford-san," he said as the older man headed to the sink with his mug.

Crawford turned. "Yes?"

"Can I go to the gym with you and Schuldig?" Of course Nagi would rather Schuldig wasn't there, in fact, but it couldn't be helped.

Or could it? Nagi wondered if he could injure Schuldig and get away with it.

Crawford looked at him critically and smirked. "What practical use would you have of physical strength?" he asked.

Nagi didn't have an answer for that.

"I never took you to be vain, but I guess you're at that age," Crawford said. Nagi wanted to deny it, but it was true. He wanted to fuck, he wanted to be sexy. "We typically work out while you're still at school."

Nagi was hiding behind his coffee cup. He realized what he was doing and put it down deliberately. "I don't have to be. I have a break at 10."

Crawford turned away again. "Sure, then."

Nagi watched him go. He smiled. Happy Birthday.

Nagi doodled in his notebook during advanced geometry. Another useless class. He had his gym bag in his locker. It was really going to happen. He tried to imagine Crawford like the boys from his gym class: hot, sweaty, flushed. The thought warmed him.

To his left, a girl bent over her friend's desk to discuss a problem. They were given free time to start on the homework. Someone called to her across the room and she turned, her breasts accidentally brushing her friend's cheek. The boy in front of him nudged the friend at his desk and they stared as she apologized to her friend.

When she returned to studying the problem, one of the boys reached out to lift her skirt. Nagi watched closely in anticipation. The windows were closed- otherwise Nagi thought he might play "wind" and help the kid out. As careful as the boy was, the skirt was only lifted an inch before the girl straightened- as if electrocuted- and slapped his hand away. The boys jeered, and she blushed, God she was hot. She stomped to the other side of her friend's desk, lips pouty in anger. Nagi looked away, pretending to work.

Nagi wasn't sure if he was gay or not. He was fascinated by breasts and short skirts and… Crawford… What was it about Crawford? Crawford was the only man he had felt those feelings for, but he felt them stronger than he did for any woman. He thought back to the day Crawford saved him. Or… it was probably Schuldig's fault, like everything else. Schuldig was a faggot. This was an unavoidable fact by the way he broadcast his perverse thoughts about every hot guy he saw. Including Crawford. Especially Crawford. As long as he had known Crawford, his thoughts had been injected with Schuldig's horny lusts toward the older man.

So maybe it wasn't natural. But it was certainly real. Certainly. Nagi closed his eyes and managed to will away the tenting in his slacks before class was dismissed.

Schuldig and Crawford were already at the gym by the time Nagi arrived. He dressed quickly and threw his stuff in a locker. He was wearing his school gym clothes, and he frowned as he passed a mirror. He looked like a damn child. He made a note to invest in something else.

He saw Schuldig first. The man's wild orange hair was tied back and he was running, gazelle-like, on the treadmill. Despite his pace he hadn't broken a sweat yet. Schuldig turned to him immediately and smiled.

_Chibi! All we need now is Farfarello and the gang's all here. Too bad he is not fit for public appearance._

_Like you can talk, _Nagi thought, and looked casually about the rest of the room.

_He's lifting. I suggest you wipe the drool off your face before you talk to him, though._

Nagi rolled his eyes, and Schuldig smirked, turning up the speed on his machine. He was running at super-human speeds by the time Nagi turned away.

The weight equipment took up a sizeable portion of the large gym, but the place was deserted besides Schwarz (thanks to Schuldig's mental suggestions), so it didn't take long to spot him. He was doing squats. Nagi shivered. Despite being out of his suit, Crawford still radiated power. And this power was intoxicating, more visceral and raw. He was physically strong.

It was better than Nagi imagined. Crawford looked natural in black sweats and a tight gray t-shirt. Nagi could see his finely shaped ass beneath the cotton sweats better than ever. His muscular arms were revealed in their glory. And when Crawford moved on to the chin up bar, he raised his hands above his head, and his shirt rode up, and yes. Yes, yes, yes.

Nagi walked up to him. "Crawford-san."

Crawford dropped down from the bar and turned to face him. He was wearing contacts. It was strange, but sexy. He looked more animated without glasses, younger. Sweat glistened at his temples. Nagi hadn't realized he'd been staring, but Crawford tilted his head, just slightly, to indicate he was waiting.

"Um," Nagi couldn't remember the last time he'd been lost for words, "In gym at school, we mostly play games and run on the track."

Crawford glanced at his watch—a different, sporty version. "I have some time to show you around the place," he agreed.

The first stop was the bench press. Nagi watched happily as Crawford demonstrated the form for him. Then it was Nagi's turn.

"You should start with just the bar to test the technique," Crawford said, "But we can add more weight once you're comfortable. I'll spot you."

Nagi nodded and laid down. Looking up he saw Crawford's crotch. The older man stood, a leg on either side of the bench. Nagi supposed this had something to do with "spotting." Nagi couldn't concentrate on lifting like this.

"Crawford, I think my gift can take care of spotting," Nagi said.

Crawford let out a short chuckle, and backed away. "Of course." Had Crawford really forgotten about his gift? Or was he being deliberately provocative? Neither seemed very Crawford-like.

The bar was heavier than Nagi had anticipated. Crawford made it look so easy. He cheated with his gift to look less weak, but sat up after 5 reps. Lifting was definitely not his thing.

"I think I'm going to run with Schuldig," he mumbled. It was too much. Any more Crawford and he might just start drooling, like Schuldig said. Besides, if this was made a habit, he'd have plenty more opportunity. As it was he was set on masturbation material for a while.

It turned out running wasn't his thing either. Schuldig laughed as he struggled to keep a 5 mile an hour pace. The rest of the hour he spent exploring and testing out pieces of equipment, trying to glance at Crawford in a way that wasn't too obvious. Finally he decided he was done and headed back into the locker room to change and shower.

He was finishing tying up his shoes when Crawford and Schuldig walked in. Crawford pulled off his shirt. Nagi hadn't been expecting that. It made sense, but oh my God, Crawford was going to shower. Crawford. Naked.

Nagi realized his mouth was hanging open and he shut it. He untied his shoes so that he could retie them. That would buy him three minutes if he went slow.

_You little perv. Jealous I'm the one showering with him? You should get the fuck out before he sees you touching yourself._

_Leave me the fuck alone, you fucker._

_That's right; I'm a fucker. I fuck, just the way Brad likes it._

_Fucking lie._

_Really? _And with that, Schuldig forced images of Crawford being sucked off by the redhead into Nagi's thoughts.

"You sick piece of shit!" Nagi yelled aloud, and his gift lashed out. Schuldig was such a fucking liar. In his fucking sick fantasies maybe he touched Crawford's dick, but not in real life. His gift held Schuldig against the wall, invisible fingers flexing around his neck.

Crawford, who had just finished pulling off his socks and shoes (unfortunately still wearing pants), stood up. "What's going on?" he demanded.

Schuldig struggled against his invisible bonds. "Did you know, Crawford, little Nagi has started masturbating? He's up to three times a day, and he always thinks of you."

Nagi didn't look for Crawford's reaction. He threw his gift forward. He was going to kill that fuck. Except that Schuldig's power coursed through him, an excruciating pain. Nagi couldn't see for agony. Everything was black, and a powerful voice bore through him. _You will let go._

He let go. He didn't have a choice.

Still, the room trembled as his emotions took over his gift. Slowly, Schuldig's power withdrew and he saw the man's cold smile as his vision returned. He tasted blood in his mouth.

"Nagi!" Crawford said sharply, "Control yourself!"

But he couldn't. Fucking teenage angst. Fucking Schuldig.

Everything went black.

_Nagi was really small. "He couldn't be older than 10," Schuldig said with disdain. Nagi felt older, but he didn't know, how could he?_

_He had just joined Schwarz. It was a big adjustment. There was food, first of all. And a bed. It didn't feel real though, and Nagi ghosted around the house, afraid of being seen, like they'd realize he wasn't meant to be there after all. _

_Schuldig was 18, a rebellious teenager through and through. Loud music, drugs, smart mouth. He was who he always was, really. Nagi was afraid of him, for being big and loud and brassy._

_One time, Schuldig came into his room in the middle of the night. He had just gotten home from partying—Nagi could tell by the smell. He was drunk. He was horny. Nagi only knew that last part because the older boy had taken his hand and put it between his legs. _

_We're going to have fun, Schuldig had told him, don't be afraid. And his gift was in Nagi, keeping him calm and obedient. Not that Nagi knew how to be anything other than obedient. _

_Take off your clothes, Schuldig said, and it seemed like a reasonable request. They were both naked and Schuldig stood before him—Nagi sat on the bed._

_Open your mouth, Schuldig had said, but at that moment the door burst open. Nagi had never seen that look on Crawford's face—not before, not since. He ran over to the bed and punched Schuldig. Schuldig looked surprised, too. One more punch, and he was out cold._

_Nagi had been trembling, but Crawford put an adult hand on his head. It's okay now, he said. You're safe; my gift will always make sure my team is safe._

Nagi awoke in his own bed. His clock read 6:57. Was he late for school? He jerked up, heart pounding, but no, no. The clock said 6:57 pm. Pm. The memory of the gym incident came back to him. So he had been out for hours, and missed the rest of school. That in itself wasn't a concern.

The problem, of course, was Crawford. Shit.

Nagi didn't know what to do. It occurred to him that he should apologize to Crawford, and possibly Schuldig, though it was all his fault.

It still took him a half hour to get the courage to leave his room.

The house seemed deserted, at first, but light trickled out from the door to Crawford's office. Nagi swallowed, and knocked.

"Come in,"

Nagi opened the door, but stayed in the entranceway. He didn't look up for Crawford's eyes.

"Where is everybody?"

"Schuldig took Farfarello out for some exercise," Crawford said.

Nagi counted to ten, listening to Crawford type.

"Crawford… I apologize for my behavior and loss of control this afternoon. I should have been able to handle Schuldig's petty instigation."

"Apology accepted," Crawford said. Nagi doubted he had even glanced away from his report.

"He was lying, obviously, but…"

Crawford had stopped typing. Nagi looked up, and their eyes met. Crawford was studying him.

Nagi clenched his fists. "Um, Crawford-san? Have you and Schuldig ever…?"

Crawford's golden eyes stared at him unblinkingly.

"You know," Nagi continued, his face burning, "Have you and him ever… um, had sex?"

The question seemed to linger in the air forever.

Crawford stood up. "Nagi, I know what you're about to do. Don't-"

But Nagi already had, though he didn't realize it until he had already done it. He had used his gift on Crawford. The man was held exactly in place by his gift. Nagi realized this and adjusted his power so that Crawford could breathe and blink. Crawford did blink at him, furiously.

Nagi was in awe of himself. He felt powerful, exhilarated. There was a minute where he just stood there and let what he did sink in. He was in so much trouble. This was bad, and yet…

He walked cautiously up to Crawford and circled him. He put out a careful hand and touched the back of Crawford's neck. He let his hand glide down and down and… he let his hand hover for just a second above his ass.

"Hey, Crawford-san," Nagi said, sauntering around to his front, "If you did fuck him, it's only fair you fuck me, too, ne?" He watched Crawford's eyes carefully. They were blank. "Schuldig was right about one thing: I'm grown up now. I want sex now. I'm ready for it." He grabbed Crawford's collar and pulled him down for a kiss. Crawford was like a doll, a big fucking sex doll.

Crawford didn't kiss him back, not that he could, but Nagi couldn't control his power well enough to move the man's mouth for him. He didn't really know that much about kissing.

It felt electric. His power rippled over Crawford's body, undoing buttons and loosening his tie. He tried to pull Crawford's suit jacket over his stiff shoulders, but when this was more difficult than he had expected, his power acted intuitively, and Crawford's clothes were ripped into strips of fabric that fell off with just a sweet brush of his hand.

His suit was his power, but Nagi's gift had taken it all apart and destroyed it. Nagi was horny.

His power slipped off of Crawford. He was confident he was in control.

Crawford slumped against the desk. "Nagi, think about what you are doing."

"Are you really going to scold me, Crawford? I don't know if you're in the position to do that…" Nagi had his power bring Crawford to his knees. "I will fuck you tonight, understand?"

"Yes." Crawford said.

Crawford had said yes. That meant it was going to happen, it was really going to happen. Nagi felt dizzy.

"Suck me," Nagi ordered.

Crawford undid his pants carefully, but sent the teenager a sobering look. "Go on," Nagi whispered giving the man a sharp pinch with his power, and he felt the older man's mouth close around him. God, he was doing it. He was sucking him off, without being bodily controlled. He didn't understand, but he didn't care. It felt so good! He knew it would be better than his hand, but it was good. It was wet and warm and good. Nagi was glad to leave his virginity behind for this. He could come right now if he wanted to, he—

Nagi's gift flung Crawford back into the desk. "I can't come yet," he said shakily. He put a finger on his dick. It came back wet with Crawford's saliva. He just couldn't believe it.

"Why are you doing this?" Nagi asked.

Crawford just stared at him. Nagi let his power cut across his skin, "Answer me!"

"I have foreseen it yields the most desirable outcome for the team," Crawford said, "…And playing along makes this easier on both of us."

Nagi glared at him. "It's just like Schuldig said. You're a dog. You're a fucking dog. You obey anyone who's stronger than you, like a fucking dog. Come, fucker, let's go to your bedroom."

And he did, he actually followed Nagi to the bedroom, as casually and unperturbed as if Nagi had asked him for homework help.

Nagi had always imagined Crawford fucking him. He had spent nearly every night on his back, touching himself, imagining the older man pumping in and out of him. But now he saw Crawford's power had only been an illusion. He was actually the powerful one, and Crawford the weaker. He was still drunk off power, but his own, and he would take Crawford as his own.

"On your hands and knees," Nagi said, but Crawford leaned in for a gentle and submissive kiss.

"We have both wanted this for so long," he nuzzled into Nagi's neck, "Why don't we make it last?"

Nagi knew it was a lie, but it soothed him. Crawford led him to the bed, undressed him, and kissed him all over. The touches were gentle, but expertly done. It felt so fucking good. Crawford took him in his mouth again.

Nagi batted him away lazily. "I told you," he said, "I don't want to come like this. I wanna fuck you. Get on your back."

Crawford smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. He reached over to his nightstand and pulled out a small bottle of lube. He rubbed some onto his hands and began to massage Nagi's dick. Nagi groaned. They got lost in sloppy kisses and Crawford's touches. Nagi looked down and saw Crawford had slipped fingers in his ass to prep himself. Sneaky bastard.

Crawford leaned back and helped guide Nagi inside him.

Nagi hummed in content. Crawford ground his hips into his, and Nagi began to pull in and out.

When he came, Crawford pulled him down for a kiss. Nagi pulled out and went to leave, suddenly feeling guilty, but Crawford wrapped an arm around him and he cuddled up to the older man's chest.

Schuldig came in a minute later, out of breath, and twisted his gift into Nagi's mind.

"Don't, Schu," Crawford said, "Look at us. We wanted this."

Schuldig looked skeptical but pulled his gift away. Nagi gasped in relief.

Schuldig and Crawford stared at each other, likely having a private argument in their minds. Five minutes passed, but finally Schuldig turned and slammed the door behind him as he left. Crawford swept a hand through Nagi's hair.

"I'm so fucking sorry, Crawford." Nagi said, tears from Schuldig's jab still in his eyes.

"My gift will always make sure my team is safe," Crawford said, "And Happy Birthday."


End file.
